


Artist

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: A few notes - first, this was originally written this way (Brendon x Reader) and then edited to fit my other fandom that I post on fanfiction.net, so if you recognize it, it’s not stolen.I just didn’t have anywhere to post it (or so I thought). Promise. (I think I changed everything back to Brendon / Y/n, but if I missed one, you can probably guess what my other fandom is).





	Artist

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

Oh fuuuuuuuck,“ I moaned, fingers grasping for the silken ties holding me in place and my hips arching.

A pair of dark eyes flashed up at me in amusement as he nibbled gently at my inner thigh. "Patience, baby,” he chided gently, running his tongue over the bites. Brendon’s fingers softly stroked my skin as he lifted his head to look at me. “This is still okay, isn’t it?”

He must have noticed me struggling against my confines. I couldn’t speak, the sensation from the light touch of his fingers was shooting electricity straight to my core, but I nodded emphatically. He gave me a crooked grin and chuckled to himself as I bit my lip.

“Good. I’m not done exploring.” I couldn’t stifle my sharp hiss of pleasure at his words and he smirked again. “Glad you’re not opposed.”

Releasing my lip from its confines, I made steady eye contact with him. “I want you.” I was reasonably confident he knew this, given my prone position and willing participation all night, but it couldn’t hurt.

His eyes darkened ever so slightly and his lips returned to my inner thigh. “You’ve got me,” he murmured against my skin. Without another word, both fingers and tongue moved into the delta of my hips and I was speechless again as he dipped his tongue into me, running the length of my pussy. His fingers moved to my hips, gently applying pressure as his tongue worked my body into a frenzy heretofore unknown to me. He looked up, locking eyes with me and I whimpered. He was obviously enjoying himself and that might have been the most enjoyable part for me.

His tongue moved flat against my clit, and I inhaled sharply, desperately wanting to tangle my hands in his hair. His eyes were closed now, dark hair matted slightly to his forehead, and I attempted to raise my hips to give him better access. I knew that if he continued like this, I would come in no time. He pulled away from me and I couldn’t stop the whine of disappointment. “Don’t stop,” I begged. His thumbs moved in circles over my hips as he gazed at me.

“Don’t come yet. Savor it.” With those words, his mouth moved decisively north. His tongue ran over my lower stomach, drawing small patterns against my skin as I writhed under him. Upward, upward, until his hands encircled my rib cage and his lips and tongue found the underside of my breasts. I was breathing hard, chest rising and falling as he captured my left nipple in his mouth, fingers of one hand moving to stroke the right while the other continued to caress my side. My head was spinning, hips desperately bucking - I needed more.

Brendon shifted to kneel over me, pressing a strong thigh in between my own and I involuntarily moved against him - the friction was exactly what I needed. A simultaneous groan between us before his lips continued their journey upward. He was kissing my neck, hands moving over my breasts. I rolled my head back, giving him full access to my collarbone and neck while continuing to grind myself against his bare leg shamelessly. His tongue traced a path up to my ear before teeth latched onto my earlobe, tugging gently. He nuzzled against me, whispering his assurances that he would take such good care of me.

“I know,” I managed to respond before his mouth was on mine. It was gentle, almost sweet - I paused in my ministrations against him - our lips touching as his hands moved to the small of my waist. After a moment, his lips urged mine apart and I couldn’t help remembering how this night had begun.

* * *

 

I hadn’t intended on sticking around after the benefit auction ended. Galas were not my thing and my strapless bra was torture. I worked my way through the crowd, eyes down to avoid tripping over the hem of my very heavy, intricately beaded dress. It should have been no surprise when I crashed into him and my heel went out from under me - his reflexes were quick though, and he caught me with one arm around my waist. “I’m so sor-” I was halfway through an apology when I looked up and my words caught in my throat. “I know you.” He looked exactly like he always did – black leather pants and a black but detailed blazer, black dress shirt.

He grinned, setting me right on my feet and offering a hand. “Brendon.” I shook it, slightly in awe. I prided myself on my general ability to remain levelheaded in most situations but if there was one musician who could break me, it was the man in front of me.

“I’m Y/n…Why are you here?” I questioned, gazing around the ballroom at the tables I had supervised the arrangement of earlier that morning, the large banners with different cats’ and dogs’ images emblazoned across them with bold numbers announcing our rescue and adoption success. He shrugged, following my gaze.

“I like animals. I want to help them. This foundation lets me do that. Why are you here?” I smiled back at him now, gesturing around us.

“This is my foundation actually. I’m not big on parties so I was planning on making an Irish exit, but I think I’ve ruined that,” I explained, putting my weight more evenly on both feet and wincing at the pain. He immediately looked concerned and I waved a hand. “I’ll be fine, there’s a lounge in the back, I’ll go and ice it and elevate it and whatever.”

He shook his head. “I’m not letting you walk alone and fall again. You obviously need me,” he grinned. I laughed and accepted his proffered arm, admitting to myself that it was certainly a helpful and very appealing arm. “Lead the way,” he told me, and we set off for the private lounge I had used earlier to dress for the event.

He pushed open the door and followed me in, looking around the room with interest. It was a hybrid lounge and dressing room, and I had scattered the space with cosmetics and various gowns. I blushed. “Sorry, it’s so messy. I thrive in chaos.” I dropped onto the couch and leaned over to release the straps of my shoes.

He shook his head, sinking down into the couch beside me and offering a hand toward my foot. “No judgment. Chaos - is that why you chose to cash in your trust fund and start a foundation for strays who just need a second chance?”

I blinked at him, raising my injured foot ever so slightly and allowing him to lift it into his lap so he could free me from these damn shoes. “How did you know that?” The question was, admittedly, a foolish one. I had founded a very successful charity, one that was gaining more and more attention than my personal self could really process. The fact that he was not the first celebrity I had seen that evening was a testimony to that fact.

He gave me a small smile. “I do my research. I like to know exactly where my money is going.” Instinct kicked in and I shifted slightly, thanking him for his donation. He waved my thanks away, correcting me, “No, thank  _you_  for taking my money and doing something important with it. You said you had ice?” He was looking around the small space and I pointed helplessly to the ice bucket in which the unopened bottle of champagne still rested with a towel dangling over the edge.

He rose, placing my foot gently on the couch, to cross the room and returned with the towel as a pouch of ice. He really was beautiful. I gazed at him in casual amazement as he sat down again and lifted my ankle into his lap to apply the ice and inspect it carefully. “The good news is,” he told me while rotating my ankle slightly, “I don’t think it’s anything more than a twist. Your swelling isn’t bad and there’s no bruising. But I’m not a doctor so…” he looked up and shrugged.

“Do you have a lot of experience with damaged bones?” He chuckled, pretending to be offended.

“Well now I know you’re not a fan,” he joked, moving the ice so it fully surrounded my ankle. “I’ve had my fair share of clumsy moments.” I shook my head.

“I am actually.” Brendon looked up at me quizzically and I continued. “A fan, I mean. I’m freaking the fuck out on the inside. You’re incredible. Probably my favorite artist.” He glanced at me with equal parts gratitude and caution, eyes steadily on mine while I cursed myself internally. “Don’t worry, I have excellent self-control.” I smiled faintly and gestured at my elevated ankle still in his grasp. “Besides, you could outrun me.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s reassuring.” He shifted slightly and lifted the ice to check my ankle again. “So, tell me everything. How did you start this thing? What did your parents say? What’s the best part? What’s the worst part?”

I relaxed back into the couch, letting him lift my other foot into his lap and tried my best to answer all of his questions. He seemed genuinely interested in my foundation and how it worked, and this was a good way to ensure I stayed in control.

We had been talking for at least an hour, each leaning in more and more until my head rested on my knees to gaze up at him and he was curled into the couch facing me, one hand stretched across the back of the couch and the other resting over my ankle almost protectively. He had freed my good foot from its shoe as well and, occasionally, almost idly, he would begin massaging a foot, eyes never leaving mine. I was struggling. He was funny, charming, kind, an animal lover, and he was insanely attractive. We were far closer than I had ever imagined. He hit a particularly good spot in the arch of my foot and - I moaned and bit my lip, embarrassed. His eyes were on my lips when he glanced down at my ankle and jerked the towel away. “I’m so sorry, I’ve gotten you all wet.”

I choked, shifting slightly, feeling the truth in his words between my legs. “What?” I stammered, and he met my eyes with some amusement, catching his own double entendre.

“The ice. It melted. I must have gotten you all wet.” He repeated in a slightly different, more insinuating tone, giving me a crooked grin and, I’m sure, knowing exactly what he was doing and saying. I leaned forward again, gazing at him steadily, feeling infinitely more confident from his, what I hoped was, flirtation.

“I kind of want to kiss you.” I couldn’t have stopped the words if I had tried. His eyes darkened and his grin faded. His original demeanor, lighthearted and fun, was gone and had been replaced by one of desire.

“Come here.” He released my ankle and shifted, patting the couch closer to him. I complied, moving closer and gasping as his hands tangled in my hair and he pulled me in, kissing me firmly.

It was simple and chaste until he nudged my lips apart and he pulled me closer, tongue seeking out my own. I couldn’t help it; I let out a soft moan and pressed myself closer still. The kiss quickly turned heated and messy, all tongue and teeth and hands. I cursed myself for this long dress just as his hands cautiously moved over the curve of my exposed cleavage in the dress. “You’re stunning,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. “Stop me if this isn’t okay.” He opened his eyes and looked at me intently. “Really. I’ll stop.”

I bit my lip, shaking my head. “Please don’t stop.” His mouth was on mine again, his hands exploring more urgently, pushing down the dress and my bra to gain better access. I made quick work of his tie and pushed his suit jacket off of his shoulders, fingers searching out the buttons of his dress shirt as his lips moved down my neck. “Don’t stop,” I repeated, struggling with the third button of the shirt. Without breaking contact, he moved a hand and, grasping the shirt firmly, pulled roughly and sent buttons in all directions before shrugging out of the now torn material.

“Fixed it,” he mumbled against my chest, tongue exploring and teeth occasionally nipping gently at the exposed skin, testing my reaction. I yelped in pleasure, arching my back to press closer, running my hands over his own back, exploring the muscles and smooth skin I found. He paused, lifting his head to look at me, running a fingertip along the neckline of my dress. “I want this on the floor.”

I stood immediately, not even flinching at the faint pain from my ankle. He shifted on the couch, still seated, and reached behind me to the zipper. With one deft move, my dress pooled on the floor and he pulled me back into his lap. I gasped in pleasure, feeling his erection pressing against me as I straddled him. His hands made quick work of my previously cursed bra and I pressed myself more firmly against him as his mouth returned to my chest. Instinctively, without thinking, I found myself grinding against him, the friction setting my whole body on fire. He responded just as enthusiastically, a hand grasping my hip firmly to control our pace.

“You’re amazing,” I whispered, before tangling my hands in his hair and kissing him again. “I need you.” It was true. I’m not sure if it was one thing or, more likely, a combination of everything; his tongue exploring my mouth, his thumbs making small circles against my hips, the strain of his erection…I felt the pressure building and knew I was close. He must have known it as well, because he gently lifted me off of his lap and, shifting carefully, laid me down across the couch. I moved to a seated position while he stood over me, loosening his belt and stepping neatly out of the leather pants with surprising grace. Leaving his boxer briefs on, he sat back down on the couch and I moved to straddle him again, whispering in his ear how badly I wanted him to make me come.

“Not yet.” He smirked, stroking the side of my face. He must have seen the frustration and desire in my eyes. It was these things present in his own that had me slipping out of his lap to kneel in front of him, fingers tracing up his thighs. “Y/n, baby, no.” His own hands stopped mine and he searched my face, realizing how I interpreted his refusal and clarifying. “You first. Getting a guy off is easy,” he grinned ruefully and continued, his eyes hooded with lust. “The female orgasm is an art and, frankly my dear, I intend to remain your favorite artist.”

With that, he drew me back up to the couch and reached behind his back for the tie I discarded earlier. He looked at me, the question in his eyes, and I nodded. “It’s okay.” I shifted onto my back and raised my arms above my head so he could secure the tie around my wrists and the arm of the couch. He glanced down at me and I nodded again, testing the restraint. “It’s good. Not too tight. It’s good. It’s actually kind of hot.” I grinned and he looked at me for a moment, running his eyes over my entire body.

“Yes, you are. You can stop me at any point, but here’s what’s about to happen, assuming you don’t stop me.” He swung a leg over my body to hover over me completely. “I’m going to explore and taste every inch of your body.” A thrill of pleasure sent a shiver through me. He continued. “I’m going to bring you to a screaming orgasm with my fingers and when you think you can’t take anymore, I’m going to do it again with my tongue.” I was biting my lip now, desperate for him. “And then,” he paused to look down at me. He was the sexiest man I had ever seen. He leaned down to run his tongue along the shell of my ear. “And then, I’m going to fuck you until my name is the only word you can think or say.”

I shifted with pleasure. “I should warn you,” I grinned. “I was an English major. I know a lot of words."l

Brendon chuckled, running his hands down my stomach to rest at the edge of my silk underwear. "Then I’d better get to work.” In one fluid motion, he had my panties around my ankles and two fingers stroking me gently. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he murmured, moving his free hand to caress my face. I pressed my cheek into his touch, both of us giving a small gasp of pleasure as he slid both fingers in. He stroked my cheek with his thumb, all the while steadily working me with his fingers. “More?” He asked, and I nodded desperately. He increased his pace, adding his thumb to apply gentle but steady pressure to my pelvis. “You feel so good,” He told me as he stretched out beside me, going deeper than before, eliciting a moan from me. “I can’t believe how wet you are for me,” he continued, and my pleasure spiked and the walls of my pussy clenched around his fingers. I leaned forward to capture his mouth with mine. He pulled away and smirked at me, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. “You like this?”

I nodded quickly, spreading my legs slightly and rolling my hips up into his hand. “I love it. All of it.”

Brendon grinned, nipping at my neck. “Good. Because you feel so good and I am gonna lose my damn mind over how warm and wet and tight your pussy is, how I want to just bury my cock in you and how I am going to make you come like no one before.”

I was biting my lip, eyes closed while he talked. I was close and his words were pushing me closer and closer to the edge. “Oh fuck, don’t stop,” I begged, looking at him imploringly.

He grinned. “You like me fucking you with my fingers, don’t you? You love how deep I go, how good it feels when I spread them apart, getting you ready for my dick. You love my thumb on your clit, rubbing and rubbing until you can’t stand it and you just explode.” His words fell right against my ear and I could feel said dick pressing against my thigh. As promised, he was spreading his fingers within me, stretching me wider. His thumb started over my clit and I let out a small shriek of pleasure. Brendon smirked against my neck, increasing his pace and biting gently from ear to collarbone. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

I was writhing against him, desperate for release. I was so close. I needed more. “More. More. A third.” I couldn’t form full sentences but I knew a third finger would send me to pieces.

He dutifully added his ring finger to his index and middle, slowing his pace but thrusting harder and deeper, thumb pressing firmly against my clit. “I should have known you needed three,” he told me. “I saw you and I said to myself, ‘that’s a woman who needs a lot to satisfy her. She has really high standards.’”

I laughed but quickly lost my breath. He was right. I was right. His fingers were pushing me right there. "Fuck, Brendon. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Come for me.” It was as though my body listened exactly. Within a split second, I was falling apart, gasping and bucking against his hand. He doubled his speed, intent on dragging me over the edge now that he had pushed me there. I had my head turned to one side, pressing my face into the couch back, muffling my cries of pleasure but as they subsided and I was trembling with the aftershock of my own orgasm, he gently pulled me back. “Next time, I wanna hear you come.”

His mouth was on mine, tongue dipping and caressing my own. I reflexively moved my hands as though to cradle his face, but was stopped. I whimpered in frustration, tugging at my restraints. He froze against my lips and I was quick to speak. “I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt. I just want to touch you.”

He smiled now. “I promise you will have your hands back soon.” His own hands were moving up over my body, feather-light touches that were driving me wild. “How do you feel?”

I couldn’t stop the lazy smile that spread across my face; I was luxuriating in the afterglow. “I feel amazing.” With almost no hesitation, he brought three fingers back to my core, rubbing gently. Instantly I was gasping, rolling my hips to meet his touch. “Fuck I’m sensitive… if you don’t stop, I’m going to come again.”

Brendon looked down at me thoughtfully, three fingers moving at half speed now, fucking me hard and slow. “I don’t see that as a bad thing.” Kissing me again, he set to work. My head tipped back, and I was letting out staccato moans of pleasure unashamedly.

His fingers moved steadily within me, thrusting and twisting and rubbing, and I was struggling to catch my breath. I had had sexual partners before, but no one like Brendon. He was right. He was going to make me come like no one else. “I need you.” The words fell out of my mouth again and he grinned, resting his forehead against mine.

“I’m right here. You’ve got me, baby.” He began working over my neck, biting lightly and soothing the area instantly with the tip of his tongue. I was shaking, my legs spreading for him, hips arching and rolling, desperate for climax. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and I cried out again. “You feel amazing.” His fingers, his tongue, his words, his hard-on pressing into my thigh – it was all too much. It was almost embarrassing how soon I was going to come again and I tried to control it – deep breaths in and out. Focus on anything but him. My head rolled back and I closed my eyes. “I want to feel you come all over my fingers again Y/n. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my fingers tight and watch you ride my hand and hear you screaming my name. I want to taste you.” I caught my breath. It was too much. It was too much.

“Brendon!” He had curled his fingers, his middle finger pressing insistently into me and stroking firmly. “Fuck, Brendon, right there.” I couldn’t control myself, I couldn’t even breathe, all I could do was feel his fingers hitting the perfect place inside me. I moved to hide my face but remembered his earlier request and found his eyes instead. “I’m coming, I’m coming, fuck, Brendon, you’re perfect, please don’t stop.” The words fell from my lips in a breathless chant and I was writhing under his touch. He watched in immense satisfaction, stroking my hair with his free hand.

“You’re incredible.” He withdrew his fingers, grinning at my moan of loss, and carefully ran his tongue up and over each individual finger. “And you taste so good.” His eyes closed in ecstasy as his tongue worked its way back over each. I moaned, craving his tongue on me instead. He was running his fingers through my hair now, across my parted lips, down my chest, over my stomach and drawing circles on my hips. “You’re incredible and I don’t want to stop touching you even for a second.” I twisted slightly, letting my legs twine around him and pull him closer. I was still breathing hard, relishing the feeling of his hands on my thighs when he moved toward the end of the couch. “But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep,” he murmured, clasping my ankles in both hands and pushing them toward my body.

“Frost,” I mumbled, pleasantly surprised. He grinned up at me, feathering a kiss to the inside of my thigh.

“I know things. I know poets and shit.” He was massaging my calves now, resting back on his heels. “Come live with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove…” I laughed now appreciatively, and he smiled again. “I’m sure we both see the irony there.” Without another word, he bent back down and slid a hand under the small of my back and tilted my hips upward. He shifted his head to the side, exactly three inches to the right of where I most wanted him and teased my skin with the tip of his tongue.

* * *

 

“Do you think you can handle it?” He was mumbling against my lips, reluctant to break the kiss. I was brought out of my reverie by his words and with the feeling of his thumbs rubbing across my breasts and his leg pressing insistently between my thighs. I bit his lip gently, and he pinched my nipple in response, sending lightning straight through me.

I think I need it.“ I responded, spreading my knees apart but still grinding against his bare thigh. He smirked, released my lips, and traced a slow, torturous path with his tongue down between my breasts to my throbbing center. With both hands against my thighs, pressing them apart, he gazed up at me steadily.

"Is this what you need?” He ran the tip of his tongue across my pussy, gently moving over the sides of my labia in light circles and I shuddered, wishing I could grab his hair. “Or this?” He was much more forceful this time, his tongue finding exactly where I wanted it and moving steadily back and forth. I was shrieking, trying to keep my hips still as he tormented me with his mouth. It wouldn’t be long; I was too sensitive from everything else he had done to me. I could feel my climax building, the pressure intense. His hands left my hips and he carefully pressed two fingers against my pelvis and pushed up – I gasped instantly, the move gave him full access to my clit and he was taking full advantage of it, his tongue going flat against me and sending shockwaves through my entire body.

Before I could catch my breath, Brendon slid two fingers back inside, thrusting and curling relentlessly as his tongue strummed against my clit. I threw my head back, raising my hips and chanting his name, desperate for release. “God, you’re beautiful.” He pulled away to watch me for a moment before returning to his previous ministrations. Using a shoulder, he nudged my leg closer to my body and withdrew his fingers momentarily – before I could even react, he was back inside me, both tongue and fingers doubling their force and I was screaming my orgasm, practically weeping his name in ecstasy.

I was trembling, shaking from head to toe and he moved up and over my body, kissing my stomach, my chest, my neck, my forehead, finally my lips. I arched up into him, cradling him in between my legs, kissing him urgently. One of his hands cupped the back of my head, while I could feel the other untying the tie that held me in place. I felt the silk go slack and I shot my arms forward, one thrown around his shoulders, the other hand tangled in his hair. “You’re amazing,” I mumbled against his lips, twisting my legs around him to keep him pressed against me.

He smiled into the kiss, both hands running through my hair and down my back, holding me close to him before pulling back slightly. “How do your arms feel?” Brendon looked at me with concern, running the tips of his fingers up my arms and across my shoulders. I shrugged, wanting to get back to the kissing and snuggling back closer to him. He chuckled. “Not ready to let go yet?” I shook my head, burying my face in his neck. He kissed my forehead, stroking my hair. “Let’s check your arms.” He shifted so he was behind me, hands rubbing over my shoulders and upper arms carefully. “No pain?” I shook my head, letting it fall back against his chest. “I just don’t want you to have pulled something…” he was using his thumbs to apply pressure between my shoulders and neck and I was groaning in pleasure, arching my back and pressing against him. “I think you’re okay.” He was kissing the top of my head, still rubbing my arms and I snuggled back into his body, relishing the feeling of his hardness pressing insistently into my back.

“I think I am too.” I slid down his body, resting my head on his leg and closing my eyes. “Orgasms always make me sleepy,” I confessed, snuggling against his leg and purposefully brushing the tip of my nose against his erection before snaking a hand up to palm him through his boxers. He inhaled sharply as I stroked him, running his fingers through my hair and leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“You better take a quick power nap, because as far as I can tell, you still know words other than my name, meaning I haven’t kept my promise.” His voice was playful but contained an undertone of desire, and a thrill of pleasure went through me. There was more. He had already brought me to orgasm – was it really three times? – and there was still more he had promised me. My toes curled at the thought, and I gazed up at him, biting my lip. “You really are stunning,” Brendon murmured. I smiled lazily.

“I’m usually not this kind of girl…sleeping with someone pretty much immediately,” I told him, my hand no longer stroking but wrapping around his dick instead. He tucked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up to meet his eyes.

“Hey. One, I’m definitely not judging you. I am definitely fucking you,” he gave me a lopsided grin, “but I’m not judging you. Two, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being the 'kind of girl’ who sees something she wants and gets it. Who cares how we met or when we met? It’s no one’s damn business. I wanted you. You wanted me. So here we are.” Brendon leaned down and kissed me deeply, and I twisted myself up into his arms and back into his lap, responding eagerly. He pulled me closer and I tentatively rubbed myself against him again. He pulled back slightly and met my eyes. “So we’re good? You’re not mentally beating yourself for being 'that kind of girl’ which we have determined is total bullshit?” I laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, we’re good. Will you please kiss me again?” He complied with a smile, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me gently. “Thank you,” I mumbled against his lips, grasping his hair and twisting it between my fingers. As the kiss continued, I tugged at his hair, eliciting a sharp groan. He bit my lip and I rolled my hips against his, relishing the feeling.

“Someone’s awake again,” he commented, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I nodded, grinning. “Someone better get ready.” With that, he lowered me back onto the couch, kissing me more firmly and coaxing my lips apart with his tongue. Moaning into the kiss, I wrapped my legs around his waist and reached between us to get his underwear off. “You might be more eager than me,” he commented, kicking the boxer briefs off the couch. I gasped when his erection sprang free and pressed closer to him. He grinned, grasping my hips and pulling me against him firmly while kissing my neck. “You’re so wet. I can’t wait to feel you on me. But first,” he paused, leaning off the couch and grabbing his earlier-discarded pants. I propped myself up on one arm, watching in interest as he tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it down into place. “Safety first.”

“You’re a fascinating man, Brendon Urie,” I commented, leaning back on the couch and spreading my legs for him. He gave me a knowing wink and kissed me firmly, two fingers working between my legs, twisting and spreading slowly, before taking his cock in one hand teasingly running it over the length of my pussy. I whimpered, trying to thrust down, needing him to fill me, to fuck me. He smirked, pressing the head of his dick against me, watching me whine and writhe against him. Finally, he relented, grasping my hip and entering me in one swift movement. I cried out, nails scratching at his back, instantly grateful for the work he had done earlier. I bit down on his neck as he filled me and whispered, “you feel so fucking good.”

He flipped his hair out of his eyes and met mine. “You feel amazing,” he returned, grabbing one of my legs and pulling it higher on his waist. Immediately he was deeper, thrusting hard, and I was working to keep my composure. He dropped down onto a forearm, still working my body, and licked the shell of my ear. “Tell me what you want, baby.” His tongue traced a path from my ear down my neck and ended in the hollow of my collarbone while his free hand moved over my breasts, torturing me by barely brushing his thumb gently back and forth over a nipple.

I shuddered with pleasure, arching my back and lifting my hips to offer him more of me. “You, fuck, I want you.” He grinned, hitching my other leg higher as well and bit my shoulder when I cried out in pleasure from the angle change. “Fuck, yes. I want you to fill me up with your cock, I want to come, oh fuck, fuck, fuck you’re right there, don’t stop.” I was trying to catch my breath but his pace had nearly doubled and I was fisting my hands in my own hair, the sensations proving to be too much for me.

“I’ll tell you what I want.” His voice was right next to my ear, his hot breath caressing my neck. “I want to bend you over that desk and keep fucking you senseless until neither of us can stand and then I want to get you back on your knees so I can take you from behind, filling you up, hearing you scream my name.” I nodded my agreement and unwrapped my legs from his waist. He stood, helping me to my feet. With no warning, he pulled me tight to him, his erection pressed between us and kissed me, hard. I gasped; the kiss was rough and demanding and possessive and I wanted it to last forever. He pulled back, eyes dark with lust, and pointed at my vanity. “Hands on the desk. Spread your legs.”

I did as I was told, meeting his eyes in the mirror and biting my lip. He was standing behind me, hands moving to grasp my waist and kissing my neck. We both gasped as he entered me; this angle was far tighter and I could feel everything at a higher intensity – I could only imagine what it felt like for him. His fingers curled into my waist and he bit down on my neck as he began to rut against me. I was in sensory overload. The feel of his fingers on my skin, the sharp thrilling almost-pain as his teeth marked me, and the overwhelming pressure and sound as his hips met mine – I felt my legs trembling and knew climax was close. “Fuck, Brendon…I’m almost there.” His eyes found mine in the mirror, his lips still marking my neck.

“Don’t come.” His words were harsh, but his eyes were locked on mine and I saw the warmth and lust there. “I’ll tell you when you can come.” I whimpered, pushing back onto him, desperate for some release. “I want to make this last,” he murmured, hands moving over my breasts and caressing my skin. His speed and force were nearly half what it was originally, and I felt my legs start to give out. This slow, almost tender moment was driving me to the edge and I was using all of my self-control not to come on the spot. He must have felt my thighs shaking because he wrapped an arm around my waist and held me tight against him. I rolled my hips back and dipped slightly, offering him more of me.

“I want you to come,” I told him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His hips snapped forward, and I was biting my lip to keep from screaming. His free hand moved forward to rub my clit and I shrieked his name, feeling my own orgasm coiling deep in my stomach.

Don’t worry, I’m gonna.“ His voice was tight with control but his eyes showed a hint of amusement and appreciation. "Don’t think for a second I’m not gonna come, watching you take my dick, feeling you buck against my fingers, begging for more. Fuck,” he breathed, burying his face in my neck, feeling my pussy squeeze around his length in response to his deeper strokes. “Y/n, fuck, get on the couch.” He withdrew from me, and the loss made me cry out. My legs were still shaking and as I turned to move, I felt them start to give out from under me. He caught me, pulling me tight against him and kissing me deeply. “This is the second time tonight I’ve caught you,” he murmured.

“And I’m still appreciative,” I returned, running my fingers across his shoulders. “Now,” I continued, “I believe you told me to get on the couch.” I pulled away from him, biting my lip and walking back towards the couch. Brendon grinned, leaning back against my vanity and watching me. I sat down, crossing my legs and waiting.

“Lay down.” His voice was domineering again and I felt a rush of pleasure move through me. I complied, propping myself up on my elbows. “Touch yourself.” I gave him a quizzical look, and he smirked. “You heard right. Touch yourself.” I moved a hand down my body and gasped when my fingers met my clit, my pussy walls fluttering as I circled it roughly. Moaning, I let my eyes fall shut as my hips moved in time with my fingers. “Eyes open. Look at me.” I met his eyes, whimpering as I watched his hand move slowly over his dick. “Keep going. Tell me how it feels.”

“Fuck it feels good Brendon, I love it. I love you watching me, I love watching you stroke your cock while I finger myself, fuck I need to come!” My voice was high and tight and my breathing was shallow. “Please, fuck, baby please let me come!” Brendon’s hand stilled and he pushed himself off the edge of my vanity and crossed the room to stand over me. My fingers spread over my clit, rubbing roughly and I bit my lip, my eyes begging him for mercy.

“Stop.” My breath came in short gasps now, confusion evident in my eyes. “Get on your hands and knees.” I felt all the tension leave my body and I followed his instructions, head resting against the couch. I felt the cushions give as he moved behind me and felt his hands curve over my hips and yanking me back so my hips were higher just before he filled me. “Say my name.”

I moaned into the couch, “Brendon, you feel so good.” He leaned forward and bit my shoulder. “Fuck, Brendon, take me.” His pace increased, a hand curling around my hip and holding me in place while he filled me over and over again. His other hand moved to my hair, fingers raking through it before returning to the roots and pulling my head back. I shrieked, not out of pain but pleasure – the feeling sent sparks straight to my core. “Brendon, there, fuck me right there.”

His hand was still in my hair, holding my head back so he could whisper in my ear. “I wanna hear you come, baby. Come for me.” His hand on my hip lifted me slightly as he thrust in hard and deep, then moved down to find my clit and stroked me gently, teeth nipping at my earlobe. It was all too much, it was an instant reaction; I was screaming and bucking my hips back against him, chanting his name over and over again. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m coming.” He sank his teeth into my shoulder, holding me in place and thrusting erratically. “Oh god,” he groaned, breathing hard and rolling to one side.

“Fuck,” I agreed, letting my legs give out from under me and collapsing on top of him. He grinned at me, kissing my forehead. “That was incredible.”

He sighed contentedly, stretching his arms behind his head and pulling me closer. “It was. Holy fuck.” He lifted my face to his, kissing me softly. “I’m going to see you again.” It wasn’t a question and it sent shivers of pleasure through me.

“Brendon?” He looked down at me, brushing my hair back from my face, giving me a deep kiss. I smiled into the kiss, arching my body into his, sighing in satisfaction as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I twisted my fingers through his hair, nipping at his lower lip before pulling back to meet his eyes.

“You are my favorite artist.”


End file.
